


Like Oil and Water, We Collide

by Karenkk



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Escort Javier, Figure Skater Yuzuru, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Model Javier, Past Relationship(s), Past Sexual Coercion, Past Underage Sex, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:00:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24816490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karenkk/pseuds/Karenkk
Summary: In hotel rooms and rented apartments, sheltered from the outside world, what they had almost seemed real. Almost.RPF disclaimer applies.
Relationships: Javier Fernández & Yuzuru Hanyu, Javier Fernández/Yuzuru Hanyu, Yuzuru Hanyu/Daisuke Takahashi
Comments: 50
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a one shot. But I guess not any more. Oops.

Javier Fernandez was very familiar with the process by now. So much that he had those dates marks in his calendar to ensure he kept them clear. 

Every two months, a Japanese woman in her mid-forties who called herself Aiko, would first send him a text message from an anonymous number, asking him to confirm his availability for these two days. After he did so, a nurse would come to his apartment to draw his blood to run a range of tests. And if all of them came back clean, a time and place would be arranged and advised, again via that anonymous line.

Javier had been in the modelling industry since he was 15. Surrounded by young and beautiful people who didn't mind having some fun with other young and beautiful people, sex was frequently offered and accepted. But it had always been in the name of fun. It was never about money. Never. But he had stacks of credit card bills waiting to be paid, and a disgruntled landlord who was very ready to evict him since he was behind on his rent for more than two months. 

He was briefed about his client after he had signed a thick stack of confidentiality agreement with an eye-popping number of zeros attached to the figure shown under the penalty clause should he ever chose to breach it. He swallowed, suddenly doubting what he was about to get himself into.

Seeing his unease, Aiko smiled at him. She assured him it was only in the contract to protect her client, as he was a very private person by nature and necessity. It wasn't in place to trick him. That Javier didn't doubt. It wasn't like he could ever come up with a fraction of that money even if he sold every single organ inside his body.

The Japanese even encouraged him to take a copy of the agreement to his own lawyer for legal advice. And he did precisely that. His friend, Gabrielle Daleman, a lawyer who he made friends with when she worked as bikini model paying for her law degree, bristled at the generous terms set out in the contract and told him he had nothing to worry about as long as he kept his months shut.

"But Javi, are you sure you are comfortable with this?" Gabrielle asked him as he was about to leave, her eyes knowing and concerned. 

He gave her one of his trademark Spanish smile, bright and seeming carefree, "It's all going to be fine."

How could it not be? Either his client or he were free to end the liaison anytime, should things didn't work out. The contract was balanced, protecting both parties except for the penalty clause that was in place to ensure Javier's ongoing silence. It didn't demand anything that made him uncomfortable, sexually or otherwise. And should the need for any "extra activities" arise there must be discussions, and they would only going forward after both parties consent. Plus, it wasn't like he had many options right now. He wasn't smart like Gabrielle, who never had any illusion about the fleetingness of their seemingly glamorous carers and had a backup plan all along. 

After witnessing him penning down his signature on the contract, Aiko introduced his client to be -Yuzuru, male. And those were all he needed to know. Javier was surprised by her reluctance to provide more information but didn't think too much of it. Most likely a much older man who was married, he thought. A businessman perhaps, travelling his way in or out of Toronto, wanting to have some no string attached fun without the risk of his family or friends discovering his indiscretions.

Standing outside the hotel room that was booked by Aiko, Yuzuru was nothing like Javier had anticipated. With a large backpack on his back, he looked incredibly young in his oversize zip-up hoodie and baggy jeans. He had neatly trimmed dark hair with a strand or two sticking upward in disobedience. On his typically Asian looking face sat a pair of thick black frame glasses. The young man fidgeted by the door, with nervousness that he couldn't hide. Javier couldn't help but gape at him. A high school student? Was he even old enough to have sex with an adult?

Javier stepped aside, giving the Japanese room to come inside. But as soon as the door slid shut behind them, he immediately said, "No offence, but I don't wish to end up in jail."

Yuzuru looked up at him in surprise. But it only took him a second to understand what Javier was asking. "I'm not a child," He said defensively as he lowered his backpack, and rummaged through it for his wallet. 

Javier eyed the ID that Yuzuru produced - the full name was displayed as Yuzuru Hanyu, with birthday shown as December 7, 1994. He was relieved that his client was 21. 

"I'm sorry, but I had to be sure," The Spanish offered as a way of apology. He had so many questions, like why a young man like him was here in a 5-star hotel room, paying for sex instead of out there dating or having casual hookups with people around his age. But he was paid to please his client, not to interrogate him. And judging from the way they stared at each other warily, he was clearly doing a terrific job so far.

After much suffocating silence, Yuzuru was the first one to break the silence, "Let's do this then." With a determined look on his face, he chewed his bottom lip as he undressed. 

To Javier's surprise, despite Yuzuru's thin appearance, beneath his clothes was a body that was muscled and toned. It wasn't manufactured in gyms with nothing but aesthetic in mind, like all of Javier's peers in the business working hard to maintain certain looks. It was carefully crafted for functionality and agility, perfectly balanced and honed without an ounce of extra fat. A dancer, perhaps? Nonetheless, it was a very beautiful body, with long elegant neck and limbs, well-defined chest and abs, and sharp dips that formed a tiny waist that was almost feminine.

Their first time together was very awkward. Yuzuru clearly wasn't a virgin. He knew his way around a male body. His lips were sure, and his hands unhesitant. Javier growled loudly against the bed, as the younger man swallowed his entire erection in one mouthful. That throat was absolutely heavenly, velvety and tight. Javier couldn't help himself but lifted his hips repeatedly, chasing that pleasure. Yuzuru let him, allowing that hardness to slide further down his throat, without any sign of having his gag reflex triggered. 

The Japanese withdrew his mouth before Javier had a chance to come. A condom was rolled onto Javier's overly eager erection before Yuzuru sank down on it. The younger man ground his hips down rhythmically, taking Javier deeper inside of him with each rise and fall of his ass. He had clearly prepped himself beforehand. His passage, slicked with lube, accommodated Javier with ease.

Yuzuru's moans were loud and exaggerated. They were made to please, in a way that was meant to stroke his partner's ego. From that angle, Javier finally had a chance to take a look at his client. The surreality of everything finally had a chance to hit his desire ladened brain. 

It was almost like watching a poorly made porn, with one of the casts trying too hard to make a show out of it for the benefit of its audiences. The expression on Yuzuru face was blissful, the very fake kind. The penis between his parted thighs was barely erected.

Javier had to shut his eyes, to distract himself from what he had seen to prevent himself from going soft. It wasn't too difficult, though. Despite everything, Yuzuru was very good at what he was doing. With his ass squeezing expertly, he quickly took Javier over the edge. The older man groaned as he emptied himself inside the condom before he felt the weight on top of disappearing. 

The Spaniard opened to his eyes, only to see Yuzuru already off the bed and pulling his baggy clothes back on. The Japanese bowed as he said his goodbye in English, stuttering through the simple words, his eyes purposely avoiding Javier's. 

Stunned to silence, this was how Javier found himself being left along in this luxurious hotel room, all by himself for the next two days. So he collected himself and enjoyed all the perks that came with having all the expense covered. 

He put the last hour all behind himself and made his way up to the rooftop bar. He brought a different man or woman back to that room each night, enjoyed their very eager company on the same bed that he fucked Yuzuru not so long ago. All Asians with black hair and dark eyes, Javier indulged himself in their flirty smiles and genuine enthusiasm. But as he heard the door clicked shut as they took their leave, he was once again left alone to look at the crisp white ceiling above him, with a heart that was heavy for reasons he didn't quite understand. 

The payment for his service came into his bank account in mere hours. Javier used it to pay his bills and was relieved to know he would have a roof over his head for the next few weeks. 

To be honest, he had never expected to see Yuzuru again. Just like that, his short-lived escort career would come to an end. But he was proved to be wrong.

Aiko approached him again two months later. And he said yes. He had no idea what had gotten into him. Maybe he just wanted to make up to Yuzuru for the terrible time he had last time. A bit of newfound professionalism in his newfound profession perhaps. 

As awkward as it had been, it was still a lot easier than waiting for emails or calls that only seemed to deliver disappointment nowadays, telling him he wasn't what they were looking for. Javier had been a model long enough to know it was code for telling him he was too old in an industry that had constant influxes of new blood. He was only 25 years old, but in their eyes, he might as well be a dinosaur. 

It wasn't like his manager wasn't trying to help. Brian Orser was one of the rare people in the business who tried their best to help those in trouble instead of casting them aside like trash. He had suggested him doing artsy short films, featuring men and women posing suggestively under soft lights, with pale translucent fabrics covering their naked bodies offering some degree of modesty as they writhed suggestively against each other. 

Javier, who didn't want to be perceived as being ungrateful, never refused it outright. He always said he would think about it. He knew exactly what it would lead to in a not so distant future. He had seen this happened to the washouts, those who were burned out by the harsh reality that they lived in. Running out of choices, many of them eventually turned to porn to milk the last of their worth. He wasn't ready to be one of them. Not yet. Not when he still had tiny shreds of pride left, which was rapidly depleting like sands falling out of a tightly clutched fist. 

When they were younger, they were all dazzled by the glamour, the fame and the money of this industry. But in reality, hidden behind its enticing facade was an ugly monster with its mouth wide open, exposing its blood-stained teeth that were sharp as daggers. It swallowed all of them whole, before spitting out a few bare bones.

Ironically, it was also his pride that landed him where he was today. At one point in his life, he was considered the next big star, the one to watch out for. Instead, he became just another name that no one remembered, faded into the past because he failed to learn to bow his head. His dream fell apart before it even had a chance to materialise. 

He downed the remaining of his vodka in one shot, straight from the bottle, before typing an affirmative answer on his phone.

It was a different time, a different location, another 5-star hotel room. This time, Yuzuru was the first one to arrive. By the time Javier got there, the younger man was playing Xbox on the fancy TV that was set up in the spacious living room. The Japanese offered another console to Javier, almost like a peace offering. And Spaniard accepted it. It was on Yuzuru's time and dime, so why not. 

For hours they played. Yuzuru was so much more animated as he focused on beating Javier, his lips muttering foreign words that Javier didn't understand. The older man chuckled, only to tease him further by repeatedly jumping out of his range of attacks, just to see the other man chewing on his bottom lips in concentration. Before long, those soft pink lips were bruised with teeth marks. And suddenly, Javier wanted so badly to be the one to leave those marks there.

So he did, impulsively turning his face, pressing his lips against Yuzuru's, as Yuzuru's eyes widened in shock. Javier didn't push any further though, giving his client the chance to pull away should he choose to. But within seconds those lips gave in, they parted to let Javier in. It was the first time that he had kissed Yuzuru. Cautiously, he gently coaxed the younger man to respond. And Yuzuru did, tentatively and shyly. The Japanese tasted of the Japanese tea that he just drank, a hint of bitterness that led to lingering sweetness.

When they finally parted, Yuzuru face blushed like a boy who just gave away his first kiss at the prom. Javier, upon seeing those lips bruised and reddened for a very different reason, felt a strange sense of satisfaction. Those glasses that had gotten in the way while they kissed was now skewed. Before Yuzuru had a chance to straighten it, Javier took it off his face. It was his first time he had seen Yuzuru without any obstruction. And his breath caught in his throat. 

The young man before him was beautiful. In all his years in the modelling industry, he had seen many stunning men and women. Yuzuru might not have the perfect features, like those that were cherry-picked from the crowd, enhanced in the hands of plastic surgeons and makeup artists, emphasised by favourable lightings and camera angles. But Yuzuru was beautiful in his not so perfect way. His soft chin added an air of innocence to a delicate face that was defined by his high cheekbones. The eyes that he had hidden so well behind those thick rim glasses were almond-shaped, in the shade of the darkest black diamond stones. They were not asymmetric, his left one was double lidded, while the right one with much less pronounced crease. It didn't mar his beauty in any way though, as it only drew people toward them in fascination. Yuzuru had the most breathtaking eyes that Javier had ever seen, so expressive at times and yet so fathomless at others. 

Before Javier had a chance to put the glasses onto the table on his side, out of Yuzuru's reach, the younger man was upon on him, grabbing it off his hand. Javier, out of surprise, was pushed backward by Yuzuru, with his back pressed against the sofa. Just like that, both of them found themselves pressing against the other, so close that they could taste the air that they shared between them. 

Yuzuru was the first one to extract himself by literally jumping off the sofa. Javier was saddened to see those glasses being put back on, hiding most of that face like a mask. But he knew he had crossed a line, so he blurted out his apology, almost afraid Yuzuru would see it as an opportunity to get away like last time. Suddenly, having this luxurious hotel room all to himself for the next two days with paid minibar and room services didn't seem all that enticing. 

The younger man turned away. Instead, he rummaged through the table, looking for the menu for room service. Then he handed it to Javier for him to order. Relieved, Javier gratefully took it and started going through it. He even managed to strike a conversation with Yuzuru about what they should have for dinner. It was a much safer topic to focus on, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the first chapter, they've accomplished many things:  
> -Seeing each other's face  
> -Kissing  
> -Having sex  
> Just not in this particular order 🙈
> 
> The title of this fic came from Yuna's song Unrequited Love.
> 
> For those of you who are waiting for my weekly update of [The Realm and Throne](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20733341/chapters/49258202), the new chapter should be up tomorrow. Appreciate your patience.


	2. Chapter 2

For dinner, Yuzuru ordered a grilled chicken breast salad, with dressing on the side. Javier went all out with a wagyu beef burger layered with maple brushed bacon, and melted cheese, as well as a generous slice of strawberry sponge cake. He knew he probably had to work his ass off in the gym for the next a few days to burn all that excess calories, but it wasn't like he was getting that many auditions nowadays. So to hell with six-pack abs and all.

He licked his grease-stained fingers as he eyed Yuzuru, who was picking through his salad with a single-minded focus of a man who was battling with the biggest villain of the universe. The younger man had his brows creased, as he rummaged through his entire dish to pick out every piece of diced capsicum and piling them on the side of his plate. 

"I just don't like capsicum! They pretend like tomatoes, but don't taste the same!" As if sensing his gaze, Yuzuru sharply lifted his head and said defensively. His mouth pouted so indignantly that Javier couldn't help but sniggered.

Worried it was taken the wrong way, the Spaniard hurried added, "Hey man, nothing against you and your hatred toward capsicum. As long as you don't judge me for my dinner."

"Javi - Javier will get fat like that," Yuzuru mumbled, as his tongue struggled with the last syllabus before lowering his head to complete his quest. 

Javier laughed. He supposed he brought that one on himself, "Javi is fine. All my friends call me that."

That got an incredulous look from Yuzuru. Javier's heart stung. He didn't know why he would say such a thing. It was sharply reminder of who he was and why he was here. And it came with a sense of unease about this entire arrangement. He was hardly Yuzuru's friend.

The hurt he felt must have reflected on his face, because next second he found Yuzuru bowing his head low and apologising, "I'm sorry.... never say right things. Always a bad friend, bad teammate, bad student, bad son. I mess up everything."

Stunned by Yuzuru's outburst, the older man was lost for words momentarily, before he found his voice once again, "Hey, it's not a big deal." 

Javier tried to resolve the awkward situation in the only way he knew how - plying both parties with plenty of alcohol. And this trick had never failed him. So he poured the Champagne Brut Duval Leroy that he ordered with his dinner into two glasses and slid one to Yuzuru across the table. 

The Japanese eyed in light gold sparkling liquid in the glass in an equal amount of curiosity and suspicion. Before Javier could stop him, he grabbed hold off it and down it in one shot with a determination akin to a warrior who was about to head off to the battlefield.

Javier spent the next 10 minutes trying to soothe the younger man who was spluttering and coughing, his poor throat falling victim to the burn sensation as alcohol made its way down inside his body. He had no idea the Japanese was such a lightweight, pretty much taken down by a glass of sparkling with barely 12% alcohol content. 

On the plus side, Yuzuru was such a happy drunk. As soon as the alcohol hit his system, he loosened up. He was so talkative despite his somewhat not so good English skills. 

This was how both of them discovered their shared passion for baseball. Unsurprisingly Ichiro Suzuki was Yuzuru's favourite player given his nationality. The Japanese legend held several records, including ten consecutive 200-hit seasons, the longest streak by any player in history. Between his major league career in both Japan and the United States, Ichiro has the most hits by any player in top-tier professional leagues. Yuzuru admired him so much that he couldn't shut up about the guy who won nine league batting titles and was named most valuable player four times.

Yuzuru rattled off baseball strategies and statistics, before moving to physics side of baseball playing. It was mostly in English, but occasionally switching to Japanese when his drunken brain couldn't find suitable words. Javier soon found it way over his head. He struggled through school. Books were never his things. So as soon he completed high school, he was off working full time as a model, with further education couldn't be any further from his head. 

Still, he looked at Yuzuru in indulgence, even when the boy pinched his dessert fork and stole a few bites of his cake when he thought Javier wasn't looking. Yuzuru's thick rim glasses were misplaced in that drunken commotion, so Javier got to see those beautiful almond-shaped eyes being transformed to crescent moons, those pink lips curving up like the cat that got the cream. Javier didn't realise he was smiling too, in a fondness that flooded his heart without him even noticing.

Drunken Yuzuru was limp and pliant. Javier had very little trouble half carrying him to the bed and removed his shoes, socks, and outer layers of clothing, before sliding him underneath the blankets. Yuzuru signed in contentment and starfished with his arms and legs extended wide apart. Somehow that tiny body managed to take over the entire bed in greed. Javier laughed, conceding to the inevitable fate of spending his night on the sofa instead. 

It was then he heard a string of unfamiliar beeping sound, which he could only assume coming from Yuzuru's phone. Like a winded up doll, Yuzuru flung himself at Javier, nearly driving him to the floor. 

Javier barely managed to catch Yuzuru, as he struggled to balance both of their body weight, only to find himself being assaulted with messy kisses and desperate hands that made their way inside his clothes, desperate for the heat of his naked skin.

"Fuck me... just fuck me... I want to forget... please... oh please..." Yuzuru mumbled, with most of these words being nothing more than slurs. His eyes were darkened with emotions that the Spaniard couldn't decipher. 

Javier was confused, but the demand presented was clear enough. So he undressed Yuzuru and saw the blotches in shades of blues and yellows on that naked body, bruises that were in various stages of healing. He frowned; questions swam in his heads, ones that he wasn't in any position to ask.

So instead, the older man tried to quieten Yuzuru's franticness with gentle touches that meant to soothe. He sprinkled kisses along Yuzuru's shoulder and clavicle, before trailing his lips down to his chest and waist. He sucked on the tender skin of Yuzuru's inner thighs, feeling him squirming beneath his administration. He stole a look at his client, too pleased with himself to see the pinkness on his cheeks that was initially induced by alcohol had extended downward, tinting his neck and chest to the same lovely shade. 

Yuzuru lifted his hips repeatedly, desperate for further stimulation. His erection was taut and leaking, as it practically begged for attention. And this time there was nothing fake about the moans that were produced by that delectable mouth, unrestrained and unashamed in his frenzy state. And those sweet little sounds went straight to Javier's erection, which was pulsing almost painfully against his tight jeans.

Javier ignored his own needs, as he wrapped around his mouth around Yuzuru's hardness, feeling it jerking on his tongue. Yuzuru sobbed into his own palm, as he bit onto his fingers, trying to withstand the desire that was coursing through his body like lightening. 

His phone beeped a couple more times, each longer than the last one. Distracted, Javier lifted his head, fully intended to inquire, but he was met with the look of pure panic on Yuzuru's face. And that stunned him into silence.

As if being chased by a demon that only he could see, Yuzuru begged, "Give me more... I want more... please...."

So Javier obliged. He took Yuzuru back into his month. His tongue wrapped around the entire length as he sucked hard. The younger man writhed beneath him, his fingers curling into Javier’s hair, pressing against his skull like his life depended on it. He threw his legs over Javier’s shoulders, his thighs trembling with exertions. 

When Yuzuru finally came, his mouth opened in a silent, perfect O. He arched towards Javier, before falling back against the bed, and going completely silent. Javier released the spent cock from his mouth with a pop. He grabbed a few tissues from the bedside table and spat out the bitter cum that had flooded his mouth. 

Javier was still hard. As he was about to get up and sought for some much-needed relief with his right hand, he found Yuzuru grasping onto his hand, and refusing to let go. 

With his eyes closed, and that blush of pink rapidly rescinding, as his ghostly pale complexion returned, Javier was reminded how vulnerable Yuzuru looked not so long ago. He simply couldn't find it within himself to pry those fingers off him. 

So he laid down onto the bed, next to Yuzuru. He ignored his incessant erection that was demanding his attention until it finally went away. Insomnia was even more unrelenting, though. Sleep evaded him until wee hours of the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

Yuzuru woke up with an ache inside his skull, it ebbed and flowed like a cold tide. His mouth was dry and sticky with thick saliva. He moaned and curled into himself, not quite knowing how to deal with the misery. It was then he felt another presence right next to him, radiating body heat. And he was practically pressing himself against a broad chest, so close that he could hear the heartbeat that wasn't his own, strong and peaceful in their slumber.

Shocked, he fluttered his eyes open. It was so heavy that it took more than one try for him to succeed. His vision blurred, refusing to come into focus. Panic started to fill his head.

"Dai...Daisuke san?" In the light of the early morning, his voice sounds so small and so young, exactly like when he was 15. He shouldn't be here. It wasn't his place. Oh God, senpai* was going to be so mad with him. 

He abruptly sat up, a wave of nausea washed over him, leaving him gasping for air. Finally, his vision adjusted to the first rays of sun trickling through the parted curtains, and he found himself looking at a face that was anything but Japanese.

Sunlight, still very dim in this hour, washed over Javier, leaving streaks of light on him. The tips of his long lashes were tinted gold, casting shadows on that handsome face. He looked almost surreal there, with gentle snuffles and rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. 

Yuzuru let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. His heart rate normalised as adrenaline receded. Instead, it was replaced by sadness. Suddenly that bed they both occupied became unbearable for an entirely different reason - a peaceful sanctuary that he was never meant to be part of. So he swung his bare feet to the carpet, then padded across the room to seek for his belonging. 

The lit-up screen of his phone caught his attention. He cautiously reached for it, hand trembling like leaves in the autumn wind. The locked screen showed 10 missed called and even more LINE messages that he had yet to read. As if being burnt, he quickly shoved it into the deepest part of his backpack, before piling all of his other belongings on top. 

It wasn't until he was out of the door, hearing it slid shut behind him that he allowed himself to take a deep breath, leaving his night of abandon behind. 

Sense of wrongness followed him, like a persistent stalker who refused to leave. It pestered him until he got to the Cricket Club, the crisp scent of ice filling his nostril. At that moment, his universe was righted. 

It was home. Even more so that well-organised apartment occupied by a loving mother who ensured he was never short of anything - clean laundry, nutritious meals, a well-stocked pantry, contracts that were reviewed and negotiated to his requirements. And yet her sad eyes followed him, unspoken words reflected in her dark irises. 

He felt breathless in her presence, chest constricting, lungs tightening, blood rushing into his head like tidal waves. He was so ashamed of himself - for taking her away from the rest of their family; for failing to be the perfect son that she deserved. So he plastered on his smile, one of the many masks that he had acquired over the years. There were so many of them. One for the family who cared for him in the only way they knew, one for the coaches who believed they knew what was best for him; one for media which constantly looked for his weaknesses to exploit; one for the fans who put him on a pedestal that was getting so high that he was afraid to look down; one for himself who had to be convinced that he was still far from his full potential. His masks were so great in numbers that he almost forgot what he was really like beneath them all.

But he was himself here, in the early morning when the vast space covered with ice was vacant. In a moment like this, he allowed his greed to come through his carefully crafted armour, so eager to possess it all for himself. All the noise in his head quietened down. The only thing he could hear was the soothing sounds of his blades stroked against the ice. 

He raced across the rink a few times as warm-up before he set up his first jump. The quadruple loop had been an elusive deity who continued to evade his grasp, as he stumbled down on the cold hard surface. Not enough height, he thought.

He immediately got up and went for it again. Another fall, another bruise to be added to the ever-growing collection on his body. This deity was beautiful as it was cruel. It demanded payments in blood, sweat and tears before it determined his worth. A ritual he was all too familiar by now. Every weapon in his arsenal was acquired the same way - his triple axel, quadruple toe loop, and quadruple salchow. He ignored the pain, even as he gasped for oxygen. His burning lung welcomed the rush of cold air. It was the fuel to his ambition, the only fire that was big enough, strong enough to fill any void inside of him - even that ever-growing black hole that was slowly devouring him. 

Exhaustion hung on him like wet laundry on a cold still day. Every muscle was threatening to give in to gravity. He gritted his teeth and persisted. 

The sixth fall left him on the ice, barely able to move his fingers. His visions swang wildly after his head collided against the ice with a resounding thud. For a moment, all he could see was the blinding light shining on him from above. He must have hit his head pretty hard, he thought, because he could hear Ghislain's voice. His usual light-hearted tone replaced by anger. Yuzuru pondered whether he had a concussion or something since he was having auditory hallucinations.

Then that harsh light was replaced by his coach's very pissed off face. Yuzuru's eyes widened. He thought he had at least another 2 hours before his coach got here for the first group training class of the day.

"I told you to take a few days off! Yuzu, learn to listen to someone, ANYONE for that matter, once in a while!" Ghislain certainly looked beyond furious. 

Yuzuru struggled to sit up, his entire body sluggish in incorporation. He groaned in pain, cowardly letting a little of his vulnerability to come through. As expected, the stern look on his coach's face softened. 

"Come on," The older man extended his hand to pull him up, which Yuzuru gladly took, "Let me take you to a clinic for a quick check-up."

"But-"

Ghislain gave Yuzuru a harsh look, and it successfully curbed all his future protests. The older man certainly could radiate authority when he chose to. The Japanese noted, conceding to his fate. 

His mother picked Ghislain as his coach for a reason. Despite his seemingly easygoing demeanour, he struke the right balance between giving Yuzuru leeway and reining him in. It was a completely different method to Nanami Sensei, who employed an approach that was more of a combination of stern and gentle motherly love. It still hurt whenever Yuzuru thought of her, being reminded of how her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. Just another person he managed to disappoint. 

His coach helped him to pack up swiftly, before leading him to his car that was parked outside. 

"What were you thinking?!" As it turned out, the car ride was the perfect opportunity for the older man to give Yuzuru a lecture, considering the Japanese was locked inside a moving vehicle with no way to escape, "I get you want to master the quad loop, but rushing into it won't do you any good. You should still be on a harness, for your body to get used to the energy and momentum required for that jump. Not practising recklessly without one! Not to mention without supervision!"

"But you don't let me practice!" Yuzuru countered, childish in his exasperation. He was still bitter about being sent home early like a child being grounded. He was even told not to come back in for at least three days! THREE! Just because his body supposedly "needed a break"! And all that ultimately lead to his childish rebellion. He sneaked back to the rink when he thought his coach wasn't present, just to catch up on the time he had lost. 

"That's because you overtrained! You did nothing but jump that damn jump for a whole week! I had to stop you before you managed to break yourself!" Ghislain was just equally irritated, "You won't win any gold medal with every single one of your bone in pieces!"

Yuzuru's lips thinned to a tight line. He could certainly bloody try!

He refused to explain himself. He didn't know how to. Not in English, not in Japanese. The older man hadn't competed for so long that he had forgotten what was like having all of his competitors nipping at his heels, and the fear and the excitment coursed through every single one of his veins, keeping him up at night.

He had no choice but to race forward - a constant battle between himself and his self-perceived limitations. His competitions were continually upgrading their technical contents. Their eyes were dark and hungry for the accolade that he possessed. Their younger bodies were still strong and enduring, unlike his that was already so battered and scarred.

Ghislain stole a look at Yuzuru, signed when he spotted that stubborn look on his face, "Yuzu, you are so young that you can't see beyond your ambitions. It's not healthy. You need to have some life outside figure skating, a little normalcy."

Yuzuru face instantly paled upon hearing that particular word, his lips twisted as they struggled to form words, "Pull over please."

Before the car came to complete stop by the curbside, Yuzuru was already pushing the car door open. The wave of nausea hit him so intensely that he barely made it out of the car before he retched. Nothing but water came forth since his last meal was the dinner from the night before. But it didn't stop him from sinking to his knees and heaving helplessly for the next ten minutes.

His was paler than a sheet of paper and lathered in sweat as he endured Ghislain's concerned look. At least, he had his concussion as an excuse, this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation note:
> 
> Senpai (先輩)*: in Japanese, it refers to the member of higher experience, hierarchy, level, or age in the organisation who offers assistance, friendship, and counsel to a new or inexperienced member, known as the kohai (後輩), who must demonstrate gratitude, respect, and occasionally personal loyalty.


	4. Chapter 4

Javier woke up after a few hours of unease slumber, only to find the other side of the king-size bed vacant. The sheet was cold to his touch. Its crumbled state was the only evidence left of the night before.

And here he was, all by himself in a room that was filled with nothing but deathly silence.

Logically speaking, it all made perfect sense. Yuzuru had gotten what he came here for, so he took his leave. Still, it left a weird taste in his mouth. 

The Spaniard shook his head, trying to unravel the strange feelings that seem to be tangling around him. But Yuzuru's ghastly pale face and his discernible panic stayed with him, like spider webs that he walked into. 

And suddenly all the fancy furniture, free minibar, and all the paid-for perks didn't seem that attractive any more when being in this very room just felt so uncomfortable. So he got out of the bed, took a quick shower, and packed his belongings.

Gabriel was certainly surprised to see him so early in the morning, judging by the way her eyes squinting in response to the bright light shining into her apartment from the hallway. Leaning against the doorframe for support, her dark brown hair messily fell over her shoulders, with flyaways sticking up in all directions. 

"Gosh Javi, aren't you supposed to be working?" She yawned as she let him in. Her eyes were unfocused in her struggle to stay awake. 

"Well, the boss bailed," Javier replied drily. That finally got his friend to wake up enough to scrutinise him from head to toe, probably assessing his sexual prowess, "Now, where is my princess?"

As if being summoned, Effie strolled by. Only with her head raised high, like a Queen surveilling her territory. Javier scooped her up into his arms and whispered sweet nothing in Spanish. She struggled a little in her human servant's arms, before finally settling down on a comfortable position. She feigned her indifference, tolerating his long and affectionate strokes, only to be betrayed by her content purring.

"She barely paid me any attention, unless she wanted her food served," Gabriel said with an indignant humph. She glared at that not so little nemesis, only to have that heated look returned by those almond-shaped eyes. God knew how hard she tried to win her over since Effie was still a prideful little kitten back in the days. Whether it was fancy canned food or cute toys, nothing she tried ever managed to win over that icy cold heart. At this point, it had almost become a competition to see which one of them would cave in first. 

"Sorry, I just don't trust her with anyone else," Javier laughed at their fierce competitions that were on open display, "At least she mostly keeps her paws to herself."

Gabriel snorted, thought about Nam and his misfortune. The one time he was brave enough to volunteer his service to his friend lead to his ruin. From his arms and thighs, to the couch, the table, the curtains in his apartment, Effie made her unhappiness known with sharp nails of her paws. 

She waved him off, "Don't worry about it, we learn to co-exist."

Despite being a little devil incarnate, Javier was extremely attached to Effie. A gift from an ex-girlfriend, he raised her when she was a kitten who barely filled his palms, to the magnificent feline who crouched so elegantly on his laps, enjoying his expert patting as her eyes formed the shape of crescent moons. He could barely remember that ex- girlfriend's name, but Effie had become an inseparable part of his life. Knowing a welcome presence awaited him behind his apartment door whenever he returned home bought him a sense of comfort. It was Effie's rare moments of open affection - her soothing mewing, the soft and pliant body, got him through some of the hardest days in his life, when the world just seemed impossibly dark and bleak. 

Javier had long taught himself to move on, to look forward. Shortly after, Yuzuru and his fear-stricken face hade almost faded to the back of his head, with some effort from his end. After all, it wasn't his place to worry about things that didn't concern him. It wasn't like he was Yuzuru's friend or anything. He was just a man there to provide a service for the hours he was paid for. 

Making a new friend certainly helped. While he was at the head office of TCC Management to complete some paperwork, Brian called him to his office and introduced him to one of his new recruits, Jun-hwan Cha.

The South Korea national possessed an androgynous look that was very much on-trend at the moment, with his delicate features, and lean frame. The 15-year-old was relatively new in the industry. He had only started working for about a year as a model for one of the small local fashion brands when he was scouted by Brian on one of his trips. Quite taken with Jun-hwan's look and charm, Brian had managed to convince him and his family to explore the international market and signed a contract with TCC. 

Brain was a great manager. He made sure Jun-hwan had an apartment that was close to public transport, major outlets and facilities. He helped him to sort out his visa and other necessary paperwork. But he was his manager. And no manager could ever replace friends or family. 

And Javier knew the feeling of being all alone in a foreign land all too well. So he extended his friendship. He showed the South Korean around the city, helped him to familiarise the surrounding areas. He introduced him to his friends, having them over to his apartment to share his home-cooked paella with churros served as the dessert. 

Javier smiled as he watched the shy boy warming up to people, his body langue relaxed as he slouched over his sofa, playing Xbox with Nam and Gabriel. He was glad that he could at least make one person happy.

And slowly, things were looking up for Javier. When Brian informed him that he managed to get him a spot auditioning for Dior's upcoming campaign, he was beyond ecstatic. 

Getting the opportunity to meet Kurt Browning of all people! One of the legendary creative directors in the fashion industry! Even gaining a small feature in the campaign would surely open a few doors for him. Management companies, big or small, all took part in a bloodbath, fighting for a chance for their models to be paraded before the man. Javier could hardly believe his luck. 

Brian patted his back affectionately, as the Spaniard hugged him so hard that he nearly squeezed the air out of the older man in his excitement.

The days leading up to the audition was absolute torture. Javier could hardly sleep or eat or function like a normal human being. So determined to make the most of this opportunity, he was overtaken by a mixture of excitement and anxiety. They were so intertwined that he could hardly tell them apart. 

His emotions were further heightened once he arrived at the venue, seeing the entire place was crowded by those who were probably five to ten years younger than him. He was certainly happy to see Jun-hwan and his warm smile amongst a swamp of unfamiliar faces. So he took up a seat beside the South Korean and started an idle chat with him, both were eager for some distractions as they waited for their turn.

The moment Javier step into the auditioning room, he knew the whole thing was a mistake. Before he was a small assemble of men and women - perhaps designers, photographers and marketing professionals, besides Kurt Browning. 

The Canadian had a pair of glinting eyes, as he scrutinised Javier in his fitted dark jeans and leather jacket that showed off his gorgeous silhouette. He showed very little interest in Javier's portfolio that was handed to him, casually flicking through it with an occasional glance. 

He was silent as Javier went through his self-introduction, with a smirk evident on his lips. That heated gaze made the Spaniard stutter as he went through the usual spiel like he had done a million times before - his age, his measurements, his goals and his work history. 

Javier grew increasingly uncomfortable with each minute that went by. He couldn't shake the feeling of being a prey facing a predator. The urge of fleeing was getting stronger by the second. 

Before he even finished his well-practised speech, the older man cut him off, "I think you might have missed your biggest work accomplishment here - public embarrassing a man who offered you a job that would have changed your life."

Just like that, every single person stared at him, each of their gazes sharp like knife blades. Javier swallowed. He hadn't had this happening to him. Not in the last four years, at least. Not since he made his escape from America to Canada, after making the entire American fashion industry his enemy over there. 

"I was a naive man back then," Javier had to repeatedly remind himself that this was one opportunity he couldn't afford to lose. So he swallowed his pride, with every word forced out between his clenched teeth, "I know better now."

"Do you now?" Kurt questioned. He stepped forward, close enough to whisper directly into his ear, "What if I were to tell you to get down on your knees right here?"

Javier instinctively shrank away, narrowly avoiding the hand that aimed for his groin. 

Interpreting it as a wordless refusal, the older man tsked, "Here I thought that insolent boy might have learnt a lesson or two with all the years that had gone by. Clearly, I was wrong."

Just like that, Javier was dismissed with a wave of a hand. The next candidate was let in, and people shifted their focuses away from him. The Spaniard wasn't sure he was feeling regretful or relieved for not being given another opportunity to respond. 

In the end, it was Jun-hwan who was chosen as the face of the new campaign. Brian opened a case of the good champion, and the entire office celebrated. Having one of their own taking up such a significant role certainly would elevate the status of TCC, and offered more opportunities for everyone in the company. 

Javier swallowed down his own disappointment and offered his congratulations to his friend. To his surprise, his warm words were returned with strained smiles and eyes that could barely meet his own.


	5. Chapter 5

Yuzuru woke up to the insistent buzzing of his door and the drunken slurs that were loud enough to get his neighbour calling the police for excessive noise. 

"Yuuuuuuzu! Open up! I know you are in there! Yuzuuuu-"

Still half-awake, his brain was groggy with barely 3 hours of sleep that he managed. Being banned from the rink by Ghislain for another three days was a bitter pill to swallow. So he allowed himself to wallow in self-pity and stew in indignations. Sleep refused to come, as his brain continued to be filled all sorts of things, often dark and foreboding ones. Determined to be a "normal" person, like everyone in his life wanted him to be, he tentatively avoided anything that was skating related for the last two days. And gaming had proven to be a suitable alternative, a brain-numbing mean to get him physically and emotionally exhausted enough to blackout for a few hours. At least in the online world, there were friends available24/7, if they could be called that, faceless people behind avatars that he knew nothing about besides their online persona. Couldn't even make friends like a normal person, he smiled self depreciatingly.

He blamed his hazy state after he opened his door without even checking the security system. It was a decision he came to regret as soon as he caught the stumbling body of Daisuke Takahashi, who reeked of long hours of flight and alcohol.

His first instinct was to shove the other man out of his door, as rude as it was. As if anticipating his move, the older man pushed his foot forward and used his body to stop the door from being slammed onto his face. His entire body weight made Yuzuru stumble backward, and it was precisely what he had hoped to achieve. In that moment of chaos, Daisuke was inside, kicking the door shut behind him. 

Yuzuru froze on the spot, helplessly as the older man shoved him until his back was pressed against the wall. Between that and the arms that held him prisoned, he had nowhere to go. His brain tried to kick into high gear, yet it was a mess as it struggled to decipher the situation in pure panic. His eyes were wide, like a deer being caught by the headlight. Daisuke smiled wickedly, those dark eyes landed on him, intense like the darkest abyss. Yuzuru could literally see his own reflections in those irises, pale and helpless. 

Without further warning, Daisuke's lips came crashing down. Yuzuru just stood there, frozen. His mouth was pried open, as a tongue slid past his teeth. At that moment, he was once again that 14-year-old child, wide-eyed and naive, filled with childish admiration and hero-worship. Being the first Japanese man to win an Olympic medal, the world and GPF titles in men's figure skating, how he used to worship the ground his Senpai walked on. He still felt the same excitement that coursed through his veins when he realised he had caught the attention of such a legend. And he still remembered the length he was willing to go to keep that attention. Inevitably, he became a blank canvas that his Senpai freely left his marks on. 

A sharp ache in the heart was what all he needed - a reminder of what it had led him to. His mind brightened up. As if finally merging from deep sea, all his senses came rushing back in. 

Yuzuru took a trembling breath and struggled for an escape. 

"You are drunk, Senpai," He said, so very glad that his mum was currently away in Japan, keeping Saya accompanied through the last stage of her pregnancy. Surely she needed a mother more than he did. He wasn't a child any more despite his abnormality, and he was perfectly competent enough to look after himself for a few months. 

To his surprise, breaking free was a lot easier than he had expected. Sometimes he forgot he was no longer that child any more. As an adult in his own right, he was at least half-head taller than Daisuke now. As tempting as throwing the older man out of the door, he couldn't afford the scene that that other man could potentially make. Resigned, he put one of his arms around the older man's shoulder. He supported half of his body weight as he dragged the drunken man to his bed. 

Daisuke, fortunately, didn't put up much struggle, to Yuzuru's relief. He had many firsthand experiences with the older man in his drunken state, and none of them had that been pleasant. 

As soon as they reached the bed, Daisuke's compliance fell apart. With a little force from his part, Yuzuru unavoidably stumbled onto it with him. It was how the younger man found his neck been enclosed by that one of those hands, holding him in place. The hands that used to caressed him expertly, cruelly peeling away his exterior of naivety, revealing that vulnerable being inside with tender skin and fragile bones, not quite ready to meet the outside world. 

"I've missed you."

Yuzuru could have shrugged him off. The drunken man didn't have enough to strength to hold him in place, and yet there he was, going limp just because of a few simple words.

"Take a good look, Senpai. You've got the wrong person."

And that brought a chuckle from the other man, "I know exactly who you are, Yuzu."

Yuzuru shuddered. All those years back, he would have willingly offered his soul for these words. And yet they sounded so hollow now. 

"What are doing here, Senpai?" He asked.

"Like I said, I've missed you. And - and you haven't returned any of my messages or calls," The older man pouted, suddenly looking so much younger than his 30 years of age. He placed his palm on top of Yuzuru's hand, directing them both down until they landed on the bulging front of his jeans. "So here I am."

Yuzuru looked away sharply. What was he expecting really? A convenient outlet would always be just that. Only this time, this man was willing to travel over 10,000km for him. He should at least appreciate the effort, shouldn't he?

"Please take a nap, and we will talk after that," His placated, eager to use that excuse to getaway. But it failed miserably when the older man raised his left knee. A bump was enough to make Yuzuru lose his balance as he found himself collapsing on top of the man.

"I've missed you, Yuzuru," The older man sighed as he whispered directly into Yuzuru's ear. With his face pressed against the older man, feeling the rise and fall of that chest, these words had almost sounded sincere. Unavoidably, his resolve softened. 

"I'll still be here when you wake up," He said as a last-ditch effort. It sounded hollow even in his own ears.

"I want you so badly, my little warrior."

Yuzuru closed his eyes briefly as his world disoriented. There he was, a 14 year old once again, and defenceless against any scraps of affection. Even a simple term of endearment that he used to call him still made him weak in his knees, even after all these years. 

In the end, he conceded. Pushing himself up, so he was now straddling the older man, he wordlessly unzipped the other man's jeans. Daisuke was commando like he always was. The erection in his hand was familiar, heavy, firm and veiny. Before his brain could register, his fingers already started to give it a few firm strokes. Exactly like he used to, he teased the head of that erection the way Daisuke always preferred, as the older man groaned in appreciation. Before long, it wasn't enough. Daisuke's fingers caressed his lips, that thumb forced its way to the inside of Yuzuru's bottom lip suggestively. 

Resigned, Yuzuru lowered his head, just wanted to get this over with. His lips stretched across the cock, his tongue tasted the familiar bitterness of precum. He swallowed it down as much as he could and readied himself. And just like a million times before, those fingers buried into Yuzuru's hair, taking a firm hold of his head. 

Each time those hips thrusting upward, that erection made its way further into Yuzuru's mouth, hitting the back of his throat, bruising the tender muscles, making him choke and splutter. Not that the older man cared, in his relentless chase of pleasure. So Yuzuru just remained as silent as he could, taking it all.

Thankfully fatigue and alcohol managed to weaken Daisuke's stamina. It didn't take that long for him to reach his orgasm. And it finally ended with the bitter cum hitting the back of Yuzuru's throat. Like always, the older man held him in place, making sure he swallowed down every drop. So Yuzuru did, like he always did. 

Finally taken over by exhaustion, Daisuke closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep. At last, Yuzuru was able to untangle himself from those hands and arms that kept him imprisoned. Grabbing the phone that was placed on a nearby table, he made his escape to the bathroom. 

Locking the door behind him, his trembling fingers flicked across his contact list until he finally found the name that he was looking for.

The phone rang. It ranged for a long time. So long that he was almost ready to give up, and then it was connected. 

He didn't even wait for a greeting before stuttering to the mouthpiece, "He's here- I - I - Please - I -"

There was a long silence before a weary voice reached his ear, "We broke up."

Of course they did, Yuzuru laughed hysterically. It sounded so shockingly shrill even to his own ears. Why else would Senpai be here then, to spare a thought for a substitute? 

Before he had the chance to beg, the line went dead. Feeling deserted by the entire universe, Yuzuru collapsed onto the floor. The chill from the cold tiles was nothing comparing to the cold dead dread in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It had been over 3 months since the last update, I'm not sure if anyone is still waiting for a new chapter. Nonetheless, here it is. I hope you've enjoyed it. 
> 
> [The Realm and the Throne](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20733341/chapters/49258202) won't be updated this week, Yuzu and his palace scheming will be back next week (hopefully), although I'm getting pretty inspired by Like Oil and Water, We Collide at the moment. So many projects (only 2 actually), and yet so little time to write.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you've enjoyed my new fic. And if you do, please leave a comment and a kudo.
> 
> Find me on twitter [@karenkk_axel](https://twitter.com/karenkk_axel?lang=en)


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